


A Safer Place to Land

by allourheroes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It takes a while for Sam to get back to New York. He tells himself it isn't because he's scared, but, shit, he's only human. It's difficult to like someone. It's difficult if they don't like you back. It's difficult if they do.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Playing it safe isn't always the best option--sometimes it's not even <i>an</i> option.</p><p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1424740">Partners</a> (mine) and <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1478854">Goodnight</a> by OrianPrime92.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Safer Place to Land

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Goodnight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478854) by [DarthLivion (DistantShenanigans)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistantShenanigans/pseuds/DarthLivion). 



> OrianPrime92 wrote a sequel to "Partners" and I just…wrote a sequel to their sequel. Hopefully this all meshes together well.
> 
> (Sequel no longer looks like a word to me.)

It takes a while for Sam to get back to New York. He tells himself it isn't because he's scared, but, shit, he's only human. It's difficult to like someone. It's difficult if they don't like you back. It's difficult if they do.

He doesn't know what Bucky was thinking when he kissed him and it only confuses him more. Trying to actually start a relationship is usually crazy and thinking there might be _something_ between him and a formerly frozen--and brainwashed--assassin was-- Fuck. Sam is _insane_. Certifiable, definitely. After a mental debate that takes the better part of the trip, he decides to head straight to Bucky's apartment. He rings the doorbell, knocks, waits about fifteen minutes and hears nothing, so, gathering his courage, he calls Steve. He doesn't know if Bucky has a phone now--what with Stark's influence, he might--but Sam doesn't know his number if he does.

Steve answers after two rings, before Sam can lose his nerve, with a crisp, clear, "Rogers."

"Hey, what are you up to, man?"

"Nothing much. How have you been?"

He hears Tony Stark's voice in the background, followed by the muffled sound of Steve's laugh and a quick scolding. He sort of hates them and the way they've fallen into this perfect togetherness that usually takes years in about six months. He guesses the whole saving-the-world-life-on-the-line thing is an effective impetus to embrace what you have, but he doubts becoming an Avenger would fix his Bucky problem.

He wonders if Bucky has said anything about him to Steve and the thought makes him blush. "I'm doing good, Cap. You know." Lying to Captain America isn't as bad as lying to Bucky at this point, so it's acceptable, he supposes.

Sam can practically hear Steve nod, see the pinch of concern between his eyebrows as he asks, "Did you need something?"

He takes in a breath, hopes he sounds casual. "I just got back in town. Wondering if you or, you know, maybe even your metal-armed friend was around. Dude owes me," he jokes. Bucky doesn't even owe him an _explanation_ if it's not something he wants to give. Shit, he's got it bad and it's only just hitting him.

Bucky's pretty messed up and he might have all those forties ideals in his head. Maybe that kiss was just, like, a whim. A short circuit of his fragile psyche causing him to do something he wouldn't otherwise. If he regretted it, it was an awful good reason for his quick disappearance afterward.

"Bucky's here," Steve tells him and Sam nearly sighs in relief, even as his pulse speeds up, makes him a little jittery. "Want to head over? You know you're always welcome at the tower."

"Yeah, man. I'll be-- I'm on my way. See you soon."

"Alright," Steve tells him and Sam can hear his bright-as-the-goddamn-sun smile with it. "See you soon."

~

Sam hails a cab and it takes what feels like _forever_ to go to the tower. There's traffic. It's New York, of course there's traffic. Every second in the taxi takes its toll on him. Once doubt has fully rooted itself in a person's subconscious, it's hard to get rid of. He closes his eyes and remembers fear and adrenaline and the sound of the windshield shattering and of metal crunching. He remembers trying to fly and being caught, slammed into the ground.

He knows it wasn't _really_ Bucky. He was following orders, and Sam's been a soldier long enough to understand that--even without the mindfuck they'd put him through on top of it.

The cab driver clears his throat and Sam looks out the window to see the tower, checks his fare and tips the guy well. Getting close to the Avengers can make people uncomfortable.

Sam tries to shake the feeling that he's being watched as he steps up to the entrance, thinks he should've flown in from the top but decides it would have drawn far too much attention. He knows, of course, that he's being watched no matter which way he goes. Stark isn't one to skimp on security--not here, at least.

He asks JARVIS where to find Steve. It feels safer.

"Captain Rogers is, _ahem_ , currently indisposed, along with Mr. Stark," the AI informs him smoothly. "Shall I inform him of your arrival?"

"Eh. Let him have a moment. Could you tell him when they're, uh, _finished_?"

He goes to what has become the lounging area upstairs and thinks longingly of the plush couches. It hadn't taken him as long to adjust to those as to his bed when he'd gotten home. Then again, Avengers Tower felt different than just about _anywhere_ Sam had ever stayed--at least for an extended period of time. It was hard to compare.

Bucky is there, leaning against the wall, talking to Natasha as Clint rubs her feet. This whole damn tower is under some kind of love spell that makes even the most badass assassins domicile, he assumes. That is, until Bucky's eyes meet his.

Bucky stops talking and Nat turns to look at him. "Stark said you were taking too long and rendered Steve's services," she says, eyebrow raised. She's teasing him as well as making fun of their team leaders and he appreciates it. It makes him feel a little more sure-footed.

Hawkeye, his fellow bird, gives him a nod and a simple, "What's up?"

"Not much, not much," Sam says, and he can't stop his eyes from glancing over to Bucky. He's certain Natasha has picked up on this, but not how much she knows. She and Bucky exchange a few words of Russian and Sam is now a million times more nervous, but also a little annoyed.

"Should I ask JARVIS to translate?" he jokes.

Natasha quirks a smile at him. "You think he'd listen to you?"

"Even the AI's afraid of you, Nat? That might be too much power for one person." He lets his eyes linger on Bucky this time, holds a question there between them.

"I told her to stay," Bucky says. There might be vulnerability hidden under there, but no discernible warmth.

"Just in general, or like--"

"Here. Now."

Sam is so fucked. "I went by the apartment," he says and the way Clint and Natasha are looking at him now is definitely that of interest.

"Oh?" The plates of Bucky's metal arm shift like muscles. "Looking for me?"

Sam doesn't want to make a scene, but he sort of just wants to scream, _You kissed me, man. You kissed me._ He wants to ask if he can return the favor. "Maybe," he says instead. "You wanting to be found?"

Bucky smiles a little then. "Maybe," he returns.

"Are you guys all weird because he kissed you?" Clint breaks in and Natasha leans over on the couch and punches his arm. "Ow!" He winces and rubs at the spot.

"I thought spies could keep secrets," Bucky says and although it sounds like a joke, his jaw is tense and there's something about him that looks unmistakably angry.

"Sorry," she tells him, but it's insincere.

"I gotta go," Bucky says and Sam tries to stop him, but Bucky's eyes are cold when he looks at him and he lets him go.

"He's embarrassed," Clint says, after Bucky's in the elevator. "Tasha doesn't understand these things." The Black Widow looks as if she's about to be named after more than the spider, but he continues, "Go after him. Tell him you wanna kiss him, too."

"Some things aren't that simple," Natasha says and Sam thinks he catches about a quarter of her meaning.

Steve walks in then, freshly showered, and Sam is grateful for that at least. He notices the tension immediately. "What's going on?"

Natasha opens her mouth, but Sam speaks, "Nothing, man." He looks towards the elevator, hesitates, and settles into a more relaxed stance. "Nothing," he repeats.

"You're making a mista--" Clint's addition to the conversation is silenced by Natasha's hand.

"Where's Bucky?" Steve asks, looking around, and Sam is extremely grateful for Natasha's shrug.

~

Steve takes him out to a bar. Natasha is invited, but she declines the offer. Sam loves her like a sister but, again, he's grateful.

Sam knows Steve can't get drunk and is a little leery about spilling his own secrets, but after a couple of beers and a fruity drink he will proudly own up to, it doesn't seem like such a bad thing. If there's anyone in the world who knows patience and understanding--where war is not involved--it's Captain America.

"You were looking for Bucky," Steve says, takes a sip from his ginger ale. Sam would've been surprised, but it was a bar Steve chose. They probably knew him there on more than a holy-shit-you're-Captain-America level. Steve stares at his drink while Sam swallows, tries to get his thoughts in order. When his eyes finally turn to meet Sam's, that's it.

"Yeah," Sam agrees. He downs the rest of his drink. "He-- Did he tell you anything?" He rubs his palm against his jean-clad thigh.

Steve looks thoughtful. "He went to see you, didn't he? A couple months ago in DC?"

Sam nods. A laugh bubbles up and he fingers his empty glass. "He did. Know how he got there?"

"He took a bus." Sam's surprise must be evident because he keeps talking. "He told me that much, at least. Bucky-- he used to be great with people. I mean, the dames-- _women_ were all over him if he smiled in their direction--not that he was a womanizer or anything."

"Not like Stark," Sam interjects.

Steve tilts his head, quirks a wry smile at him. "No, not like Tony."

It's easy to smile back. There's a ring on Cap's finger that he touches idly but Sam's eyes are drawn to it. "Shit, man," he laughs. "You're really that serious?" It's comfortable to talk about Steve--it's not about him.

Steve drops his hand, blushing furiously. "Tony said there's a song. 'If you like it--'"

"'You should put a ring on it'?" Sam finishes. "Beyoncé, she's my girl." Steve laughs, nodding, and Sam laughs, too. Hearing Steve say it though was just about the funniest thing that had ever happened to Sam, he felt at that moment. It certainly took his mind off of why he'd gone back to New York in the first place. He signals the bartender and orders another beer. Beer is safer, doesn't hide a higher alcohol percentage under soda and fruit juice.

Steve asks for two glasses of water. "I took him here once. Bucky, I mean. Not Tony. It's the kind of place where they won't stare at his arm."

Sam can't help it. He thinks back to the night at his house, to Bucky pulling off his wet clothes--the arm, the scars, they're all there in his mind, fuzzy as the image gets if he tries to focus on the details. He hums in acknowledgment and takes a swig from his newly acquired beer.

"He's like a brother to me," Steve continues.

"I thought I was the drunk one here, Rogers? But you're the one pouring your heart out." He nudges Steve with his elbow and the blonde shakes his head.

"I'm trying to maintain balance," he says. "Gives you the opportunity to do the same."

Sam swallows. This is it. "How much do you know?"

He gets a shrug in response. "Enough. He didn't tell me why he went to see you-- He didn't even tell me it was you he went to see, even when I pressed him on it, but I knew."

"Like he knew about you and Stark." Sam gets it.

"I guess, but stop trying to change the subject." Steve gives him a mock glare.

Sam holds up his hands in acquiescence. He turns the glass, draws shapes in the condensation. "It used to be that...when I closed my eyes, I'd see explosions, hear gunfire. I'd see Riley getting shot outta the sky and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. And that was it. That was what I'd come to expect from the backs of my eyelids every night. The worst kind of movie my mind could make. Some nights'd be worse than others, but, yeah." He pauses, inhales. "Now sometimes I see myself falling through the sky in DC, I feel the steering wheel being ripped from my hands and losing control of the car."

"Sam..." Steve is looking at him and Sam can't look back, not yet.

Sam waves him off, "No, it's okay. Because then I wake up. I remember that we found him again, that he's-- well, he's okay." He shrugs, clears his throat. "That we're all okay."

Steve nods. It's enough.

~

Sam doesn't sleep well, but what else is new. In his dreams, he sees the same things, but the image of shaggy brown hair, of nervous fingers curling in on themselves, those linger. It's almost pleasant until Sam realizes he doesn't even know where Bucky is.

He asks JARVIS to tell him who else is in the tower and as the AI lists Avengers, his heart sinks. "No Bucky?" he asks. His throat is dry and he sees a glass of water on the nightstand that he's certain he didn't put there--Steve must've.

"Sergeant James Barnes has not returned to the tower since your arrival yesterday."

JARVIS's formality in Bucky's name makes him feel just that slightest bit more off. He's always thought of him as the Winter Soldier or Bucky. Not James Barnes, sergeant in the US Army circa World War II.

"Thanks," he tells JARVIS. He sits on the edge of his bed for a minute. He needs to clear his head a little. It's still early and he thinks about going for a run, decides on a fly instead.

He's up in the air when he sees it: the coffee shop he used to go to with Bucky.

Sam cuts his flight a little short, but drinking has taken its toll and there are only so many toxins he can sweat out before a shower becomes necessary.

Clean but not yet caffeinated, the coffee shop is still on his mind. He isn't sure why he goes, but it sounds good. It sounds right.

He orders his coffee before he bothers looking around for a seat. There, where they had sat that very first time, is Bucky,

"You kept coming?" He doesn't know why he says it, why that's the assumption that his mind makes, but he isn't corrected.

Bucky shrugs. "Habit." He pushes out the seat across from his with his foot, doesn't change his position otherwise.

"You kissed me," Sam says, after he sits there a moment in silence.

Bucky looks up at him. "You left."

Sam nods. "So did you."

Bucky's features scrunch up. "I kissed you," he says. "Sorry."

"Why?"

"I'm a bit rusty here, but I'm pretty sure if someone's got a thing for you, they kiss back. Or has that changed, too?"

Sam doesn't return Bucky's smile, it's self-deprecating and it makes his heart hurt. Slowly, he shakes his head.

"Good to know," Bucky says, tucks his hair behind his ear. His metal hand stays hidden on his lap.

Sam licks his lips, takes a breath. "Bucky."

Sam kisses him right there in the coffee shop, leaning over the table to press his lips to Bucky's.

"Shouldn't we play it safe?" Bucky asks, his voice quiet but not quite a whisper. Sam glances over his shoulder to see a few people quickly drop their heads--stare at their cellphones.

"People like you and me, soldiers, we can't handle safety, and you know it."

Bucky smirks and puts his hand over Sam's.

Sam twines their fingers together and grins. "Think Steve'll see our picture in the paper?"

"I'm counting on it."

Bucky leans over the table.

**Author's Note:**

> And now, another sequel: [Scared of the Dark](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4521918)


End file.
